Lions and Tigers and Murder, Oh My

by Denise Swanson

  That could mean that Noah was waiting for my decision. Or it was entirely possible that although we had feelings for each other from the past, that’s all they were. A sort of ancient echo of our youthful infatuation.

  Shaking my head, I pushed my romantic issues aside and readied myself for surveillance. According to my cell, which I gripped in my right hand, it was eleven thirty. Fifteen minutes until the drop-off.

  I glanced at the sky. The moon illuminated the immediate area, but even with the night vision binoculars, it was tough to see much beyond the bandstand’s perimeter. If the perp made his escape this way, I’d have only a few seconds to alert Jake before the bad guy was lost in the darkness and the trees.

  I concentrated all my attention on scanning the space. Although the pavilion was round with no ostensible back or front, the way the columns were placed and the walkway on the other side, made the part that I was facing seem more like the rear. So if I were the kidnapper, I’d approach it from this angle.

  A few seconds later, my theory was proven true. A figure dressed in black pants and a black hoodie darted past my pumpkin, ran up to the bandstand, and slipped behind one of the pillars.

  From my viewpoint, it was hard to tell anything about the perp. All I could see was his back. I couldn’t even tell his height or build, since he was hunkered down.

  I texted Jake the info, and he replied that as instructed, Winston had put the money on the bench inside the bandstand and left. I saw from the cell’s display that it was eleven forty-five.

  A minute went by, then another three. Finally, the kidnapper stepped into the pavilion and I lost sight of him. Again, I texted Jake, then settled in to watch for the kidnapper’s exit. I didn’t have long to wait.

  Seconds later, the guy darted out of the bandstand, clutching a large duffel bag to his chest. I texted Jake for the third time and kept my binoculars trained on the dark figure. He was peering over his shoulder as he ran, so all I could see was the back of his head, and as I watched, he plowed right into the witch.

  I flinched as he bounced off the inflated decoration and hit the ground. The bad guy immediately jumped to his feet, but he failed to look behind him and hurtled backward into my jack-o’-lantern.

  Unfortunately, due to my weight on the opposite side of the pumpkin, the resin shell tilted. Before I could adjust my position to keep the jack-o’-lantern upright, I felt it lose its battle with gravity. As it tipped to its side, my head hit the inner wall, and for a nanosecond, everything went dark.

  As I blinked back to reality, I felt myself being pulled out of the cracked shell. Jake was frantically running his hands over me, demanding to know if I was okay, and the kidnapper was nowhere in sight.

  CHAPTER 19

  After Jake made sure that I was all right, we checked the town square, but found no sign of the kidnapper. The sidewalks in front of the buildings on the outer perimeter of the square were deserted, and because the movie theater had its own lot, the only vehicle that remained parked along the street was Jake’s pickup.

  After placing the duffel bag full of hundred-dollar bills in the bandstand, Elliot had returned to his car and driven out of the downtown area. He was waiting a few streets over.

  Jake texted him to meet us at the truck, and a couple of minutes later, Elliot’s metallic white Land Rover pulled into the spot next to Jake’s Ford. Elliot leaped out of the driver’s seat and rushed up to where Jake and I were leaning against the side of the pickup.

  “What happened?” Elliot’s breathing was as ragged as if he’d run the entire distance instead of driven it. “Do you have Gabriella?”

  “No.” Jake put a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Remember the note said she wouldn’t be released until the money was counted.”

  “Since you’re here, I assume you were unable to follow him.” Elliot wiped at a tear. “I was hoping he’d lead you to her.”

  I was a little surprised to see him show such emotion. When he’d first hired Jake, I wasn’t sure he even cared about his wife. Then, with her still missing, when he held the party at the Manor, I was convinced he was totally heartless. I guess Jake’s explanation of the man’s personality had been true. It made me wonder if Gabriella knew how much her husband truly loved her.

  “I told you that was a long shot.” Jake squeezed the guy’s arm.

  “Yeah. But I still hoped it would happen.” Elliot glanced at me. “Were you able to see anything that might help identify the guy?”

  “Not really.” I shrugged. “It was dark and he was moving fast. He had his hood up and the drawstring was pulled so tight only his eyes were uncovered. He wore gloves so I never saw his skin.”

  “Tall? Short? Skinny? Fat?” Elliot was nearly screaming. “Nothing?”

  “Sorry.” I screwed up my face. “From my perspective I couldn’t tell his height, and as to his build, he seemed average or maybe a little on the slim side.”

  Jake glanced over at me and asked, “What does McGowan look like?”

  “Maybe five-ten and a hundred and sixty pounds,” I answered slowly.

  “Could he have been the person you saw?” Elliot asked, grabbing my hand.

  “It’s possible.” I eased my fingers from Elliot’s crushing grip. “All I can say for sure is the guy wasn’t super tall or overly bulky.”

  Elliot asked the same questions again and again until Jake interrupted and said, “Now that the money has been delivered, it’s time we brought the police up to speed. And be prepared, the chief won’t be happy to hear we kept this payoff information from him.”

  “Let’s wait to see if Gabriella is released.” Elliot crossed his arms. “I don’t want the cops doing something stupid and getting her killed.”

  “Like what?” I asked. “It’s not as if any of us know where she’s at.”

  “If Gabriella hasn’t been returned by tomorrow afternoon, I’m calling the chief.” Jake’s voice was firm and he stared hard at Elliot.

  “Fine,” Elliot muttered, then brightened. “Hey, maybe Gabriella is waiting for me at home right now.” He rushed toward his Land Rover and flung open the door. “I’ll let you know if she’s there.”

  “She won’t be, will she?” I asked Jake as we watched Elliot speed away.

  “Doubtful.” Jake scowled as he ran his fingers over the bump on my forehead. “How are you feeling? Any headache, nausea, or blurry vision?”

  “Don’t worry.” I smiled at him. “I’m a lot tougher than I look.”

  “I know, sweetheart.” Jake pulled me against his chest and smoothed my hair. “But it scared me shitless when I saw you out cold.”

  “It was only for half a minute,” I protested, cuddling closer.

  “The longest thirty seconds of my life.” Jake tilted my chin up.

  “Uh . . . That’s nice . . .” I stuttered. “Not nice you were worried, but . . .”

  I wasn’t used to this kind of intense concern. No one had ever fussed over me that much. The people in my life all saw me as the strong one. As someone who could take care of herself. Even Gran never fretted if I was sick or injured. It wasn’t that she didn’t care; it was more that she assumed I wouldn’t want her to make a big deal about it. So why was I enjoying Jake’s concern so much?

  “It’s hard for me to see you in danger.” Jake’s mouth hovered over mine. “But I know that you wouldn’t be happy waiting off on the sidelines.”

  “True.” I could feel his warm breath against my face and had trouble forming my thoughts into words. “I never wanted to be the cheerleader. I always wanted to be battling it out with the team.”

  “I would have never guessed.” Jake chuckled as he closed the gap between us.

  Jake’s kiss was slow and unhurried. He leisurely explored my lips, and when he moved on to nibble at my earlobe, I whimpered my disappointment.

  I’m not sure how long we
stood in front of my store kissing, but finally Jake leaned his forehead against mine and said, “If I don’t stop now, we’re going to get arrested for public nudity.”

  “Right.” I reluctantly stepped back, putting a few inches between us. “And I need to go home and get some sleep since I’m alone at the store tomorrow.”

  “But you’re off at noon?” Jake took my hand. “How about lunch?”

  “I better not.” I led Jake down the alley to the parking lot behind the store. “There’s a ton of baskets ordered and I need to get them done.”

  “I’ll bring you your favorites from Little’s Tea Room,” Jake coaxed.

  “You’ve got a deal. But I need to work while we eat.” I retrieved my keys from my purse, unlocked my car, and slid behind the wheel. “See you at twelve thirty, and don’t forget the homemade potato chips.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Jake leaned into the open door and gave me a quick kiss.

  * * *

  Without any craft groups, Thursday was usually a slow day at the store, which is why we were open only for the morning. A few folks wandered in to buy this and that, but for the most part, I had the place to myself until I locked up at noon.

  I was finishing up the last of my real estate mogul’s monthly basket order when Jake strolled out from the backroom, and I jumped. I was still getting used to him having a key to the rear door and coming and going that way, since no else did. Even my dad usually used the front entrance.

  Jake slid two white cardboard boxes onto the soda fountain counter, reached over to the dispenser, and grabbed napkins, then sat on the end stool.

  Tying the final bow, I said, “Great timing.” I left the finished basket on my workbench, along with the mess I had made creating it, and let myself out from behind the register. I plucked two bottles of water from the soda fountain’s cooler and said, “I’m starved.”

  “Then let’s dig in.” Jake’s smile was so warm my heart did a little flip.

  I handed him one of the waters and dropped tiredly on the stool next to him. Without any help in the store, I’d been on my feet for the past four hours, and I was pooped. The place might not have been busy with customers, but I’d been hard at work on the baskets.

  Jake opened the carton flaps and handed me a chicken salad croissant wrapped in waxed paper, a foam tub of fruit salad, a paper envelope of chips, and a fork.

  “Hmm.” My mouth was already too full to form a sentence of appreciation.

  We munched in silence for several minutes until the edge was off our appetites, then I turned away from the food on the counter, looked at Jake, and asked, “Have you heard from Elliot today?”

  “No.” Jake wiped his mouth with a napkin, opened his water bottle, and took a long drink. “As soon as we’re done eating, I’ll go call him. If he hasn’t heard from Gabriella, then I’m heading to the police station to confess our sins to the chief.”

  “You better bring your rosary beads and prepare for a stiff penance,” I said, snickering. I might be a lapsed Catholic, but I knew the drill.

  As Jake chuckled, I casually glanced out the front window and frowned. There was a barefoot woman wearing an extremely short red nightgown staggering down the middle of the street. Leaping to my feet, I rushed to the door, fumbled with the lock, and finally flung it open.

  Jake had followed close behind me, and just as I said, “Isn’t that Gabriella Winston?” the woman stumbled and collapsed on the asphalt.

  Jake and I sprinted toward her. Luckily, there was no traffic, and Jake swung her into his arms and carried her back to the dime store.

  “Are you hurt?” Jake asked as he laid Gabriella on the old blanket that I hastily grabbed from the storage room and spread on the floor.

  “I don’t think so,” Gabriella rasped. “But I’m really, really thirsty.”

  “Here you go.” I snatched my untouched bottle of water from the counter, screwed off the cap, and handed it to the poor woman.

  “Take small sips,” Jake cautioned, then turned to me and said, “Call nine-one-one.”

  “On it.” I glanced around. Where had I left my cell? While I searched my workbench, I asked, “Should I request an ambulance?”

  “Do you need to go to the hospital?” Jake was busily examining Gabriella. He ran his hands up her legs, torso, and down her shoulders. When he reached her forearms, he frowned and asked, “Are you bleeding anywhere?”

  “I . . . I don’t think so.” Gabriella’s voice was still husky, but she sounded better.

  Seizing my phone from where it had been hiding under a cashmere throw, I said, “Ambulance or police?”

  “Neither. The chief’s cell,” Jake instructed as he dug his own phone from his pocket and tapped the screen. “I’m calling Winston.”

  While Jake and I made our calls, I watched as Gabriella sat up. Something was nagging at me about this situation, but I had no idea what.

  After I told Chief Kincaid that we had Gabriella and that the ransom had been paid the night before, I made sure he was on his way and hung up before he could yell at me.

  Kneeling down near the shaking woman, I introduced myself and Jake, then asked, “Can I get you anything?”

  She shivered and said, “Do you have something I could put on?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Shit! I was a moron. I hadn’t even thought to tell Jake to have her husband bring her some clothes, and doubtlessly Elliot was already in the car on his way.

  I got up and walked to the rack that held Scumble River High School insignia athletic wear. I found Gabriella a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. When I brought them to her, I glanced down. She needed shoes.

  I hurried to the clearance bin and rummaged until I located a pair of flip-flops. They’d been a part of my cupcake contest display and had brightly colored cupcakes painted on the straps. They looked like they’d be a little small for her—Gabriella was a tall woman with long, slender feet—but they’d have to do.

  When I gave the sandals to her, she asked if there was a restroom. I escorted her to the rear of the store and left her there with instructions to call me if she needed anything.

  By the time Chief Kincaid strode through the door, Gabriella had already returned from the bathroom. She and I were sitting on stools at the soda fountain, and she was nibbling on a cookie. I wondered what took the chief so long to arrive. The police station was only a short walk away. He must not have been in his office when I called him.

  The chief’s shrewd gaze swept over Gabriella, and I had to give the man credit. Instead of marching right up to her, he approached the traumatized woman slowly.

  His hands were loose at his side and his voice was soft when the chief introduced himself and said, “Mrs. Winston, it’s a relief to see you.”

  I had told him she seemed physically fine, but added that we hadn’t asked her if she’d been sexually assaulted. That was a subject for the police to broach, not us.

  “Thank you.” Gabriella gave him a tiny smile. “It’s a relief to be here.”

  “I’d like you to come to the PD and tell me what happened to you,” Chief Kincaid said, stepping closer and holding out his palm for her hand.

  “I was on my way to the police station when I collapsed.” Gabriella cowered against me and grabbed my fingers in a death grip. “But now I’d rather stay here.”

  “Okay.” The chief moved back, then shot me a hard look and said, “Devereaux, did you give Mrs. Winston those clothes she’s wearing?”

  “Yes.” I frowned at his critical tone. Defending myself, I said, “She was barefoot and all she had on was a flimsy nightgown. She was cold.” Then I realized the problem and said, “Hell! You’re saying that Gabriella might have had forensic evidence on her.”

  “Precisely.” A nerve ticked in the chief’s cheek, and he turned to Gabriella. “Mrs. Winston, did you put t
he pants and shirt on over your nightdress?”

  “No.” Gabriella shrank away from him. “I’d been wearing it since Saturday night. It stank. When I used the restroom, I threw it away.”

  “I suppose you washed up, too?” Chief Kincaid’s jaw tightened.

  “As best I could, but I need a shower.” Gabriella’s forehead wrinkled, then her cornflower blue eyes widened. “I wasn’t raped, if that’s what you’re thinking. There’s no evidence to collect.”

  “Even without a sexual assault, your abductor might have left DNA that we could use to find him,” Chief Kincaid explained.

  “You don’t need DNA.” Gabriella crossed her arms. “Mac McGowan is the one who kidnapped me.”

  I doubt any of us were surprised at her statement. I knew that I sure wasn’t. Still, before Chief Kincaid or Jake could respond, Elliot arrived. He rushed up to Gabriella, pulled her into his arms, and held her tight. I could see the tears in his eyes as he smoothed his hand over her hair and pressed kisses all over her face.

  While the couple embraced, the chief keyed the radio clipped to his shoulder and issued an all-points bulletin for the golf pro. He also instructed the officers on duty to start looking for the man, and called a female crime scene tech to come to the store.

  As soon as the crime scene tech showed up, she led Gabriella to the bathroom to process her. When they returned, the tech had a case full of samples and a bag with the nightgown that she’d recovered from the trash can.

  Once Gabriella was sitting next to her husband on a soda fountain stool, Chief Kincaid asked, “Mrs. Winston, where were you held?”

  “I don’t know.” Gabriella shuddered, burrowing closer to her husband. “Mac put me in some sort of rolling suitcase when he took me from my house. I couldn’t see anything, but it felt like he had me in the back of a golf cart, then in a car. After a while he brought the suitcase inside somewhere. He let me out and tied me to a chair, but it was dark and I couldn’t see much. I think we were in a basement or a cellar.” She took a deep breath and added, “I asked him why he’d taken me, and he said that he was sick of the drug screening and the two-faced old bitches at the country club. He was broke and needed money to get out of town.”